Amazon in Winterfell
by DesertChocolate
Summary: In Winterfell a darkness begins to fall. Creatures of incredible power, armed with weapons unknown to the Starks, attack the home Eddard Stark and his family. At their darkest moment, a group reaches out to him. Wearing strange clothing, and fighting like demons. What kind of woman dresses like a harlot and fights with the strength of demons?
1. Chapter 1

'In retrospect,' Eddard Stark thought to himself. 'I've had better moments.'

In his almost feverish state, his vision going and coming with waves of pain, Eddard, known a Ned by his friends and family, managed a small smile. It immediately switched to a wince at the feel of another wave of pain coming from his wounded leg.

Nearly a fortnight ago, he had watched as members of his household were slaughtered by men loyal to the newly throned King Joffrey Baratheon. Lannister really, though Ned doubted that little tidbit would be revealed at this point. Ned himself had been taken prisoner, forced into this cell by the orders of a man he had foolishly decided to trust.

"Littlefinger." Ned growls deep in his throat. The former friend of his wife, a man of little honor. At a critical point, Ned had chosen to trust the cur, asking his help in purchasing the help of other for the confrontation with Cersei, mother of the new and illegitamate king.

Those same men had turned against Ned, with Littlefinger himself drawing a blade on the Stark patriarch.

Cersei herself, the woman who married a king, yet chose to have children with her own brother, had watched with those cold calculating eyes as her mad son was throned, and Ned was dishonored.

Joffrey himself had seemed to smile like a loon as he watched men die in his name, blood pouring on the floors of King's Landing's throne room for the first time in years.

Ned thought back to the last words of his friend, Robert Baratheon. A man of strength, turned into a fat slob, a man cuckolded by his wife's brother. The pain of that thought hurt more than any physical pain.

Was this where his life would lead him? A life of honor, of duty, sacrificing everything for a nation led by liars, thieves, and madman?

For a brief moment, Ned entertained an idea. A dangerous idea. One he had been refusing to think of from the moment this mess had come up. Only three times had he thought about it.

The first had been when Jon had decided to join the Night's Watch. He knew why the boy had joined. Once, it might have been because he was a bastard. The appeal of the Night's Watch, the idea that even a bastard could rise high within its ranks. That might have been enough once.

But now, Ned could see the influence of a another. A man of intelligence and strength. A man who thrived in darkness, who brought fear to those incapable of it. A man who cared for a place that was, in some ways, more dangerous than any beyond the wall. A man who Jon had seen as an idol.

When Bran had fallen from the tower, the idea had come raging forth. The idea of reaching out, of finding some way, anyway to help his son, had been enough to bring him to the edge. The sight of Bran, broken on his small bed, Catelyn refusing to leave her vigil at his side... sometimes he wish he had broken then.

The last had been, in someways, the gentlest. When Arya had been standing there in front of him, a sword made by his own blacksmith in her hand, he once more saw the influence of another on her. It was obvious from the moment he saw the bracers. Made of shining steel, fitted around her small wrists. They were mirror bright as she stood there defiantly, the blade in her hand shaking nervously. And her eyes... Ned had felt a smile cross his face at the sight of the look in those eyes. Fear, yes, but a strength that had been missing once. It might have appeared further on. The girl was a Stark, and she had that strength running through her. But to be here, now?

Each of those times, Ned had felt temptation flow through him like ice in his veins. But he had refused. It wasn't honorable. It was a box that, once opened, could never be opened again. The consequences of it...

But now, Ned no longer had that reason. His daughters would have guards coming to collect them. Catelyn was out there somewhere, lost to him. Robb would soon be forced to take his role, to fight in the name of honor that no one believed in. The kingdom would be lead by a new mad king, one with woman of dangerous and calculating though to support him.

And Ned would allow it to happen. All in the name of honor.

And for a moment, Ned remembered words spoken to him, not to long ago.

"_What's honorable, and what is right, can sometimes be different. What matters in you think is more important."_

Ned reached into his pocket. Before he had gone into the throne room, he had hidden something in the inner lining of his pants. He took it out now, gazing at it. A silver round object, with a red raised object in its center, made of a material foreign to this world. His hand traces of the red part, his thought racing.

What is honorable. And what is right. What will be his choice?

With a final thought, Ned presses the button. The device in his hand, the most advanced device in the region, technology ahead of his world by thousands of years, sends out a signal. In an age where such things are none existence, the signal travels unseen through the air, headed to receivers on the other side of the nation.

Ned takes a moment to think of the consequences of such a simple action. And small smile appears on his face. "What is right. I choose to do what is right."

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Robb stares in shock at the device in his hand. Mere seconds ago, he felt it vibrating within his tunic. A small silver device with a red button in its center, he had felt a moment of confusion when it started vibrating against his chest. After all, he had never felt it acting as such before. But now...

Robb looks to the sky, ignoring the men staring at him as he clutches the receiver, for a moment, his eyes flash an unearthly green. "Father... thank god."

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"Jon... why is your armor making that noise?" Samwell Turly asks in confusion, his large face twisted in confusion.

Jon chuckles as he gazes towards his armor, listening to the sound of the silver device vibrating within it. "Its calling for my fathers friends." He grins, a dangerous grin. Jon Snow turns to look at his friends gathered within the locker room. "I do believe I'll be leaving soon."

"But... you don't leave the Night's Watch." Grenn replies in confusion.

Jon laughs.

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Catelyn shudders as she gazes at the device in her hand, her sad and in pain. She clutches it to her heart, closing her eyes tightly as she hugs it to her. "Oh Ned. What have you done?"

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Arya rushes into her room, a blur of motion. Moments before, she had been headed to her sword lessons. Up until her device had started vibrating. Now, she was rushing to her chest, flipping it open in a rush. She digs deep into it, throwing aside clothing in excited burst. Soon enough, she lifts up two silver-colored bracers, her eyes shining with joy.

"Its time!"

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In another world, a place closer to our own, in a satellite floating above the earth, a beep begins to sound out. A man with green colored skin looks at it, a bit confusion crossing his features. After a moment he smiles.

"Well old friend. Its about time."

As the man rises to his feet, green skin shining beneath the lights, he thinks back to the first time he met Ned Stark.

When the forces of darkness had attacked an unready world, forcing the warriors of two worlds to join forces. When the Justice League made a home in Winterfell.

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Authors Note: Just a short vignette. I've this idea in my head for awhile, so I decided to make an intro to see what you would think. The premise is, what would the Starks be like if they had encountered the Justice League months before the Game Of Thrones series begins? When magic and intrigue have to touch toes with tech and superheroes? Just a thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Varys had seen many things in his life. It came with being the informant and spy of the kings of the most contested throne in the world. And as much as he had seen, he had read much more. Books from ancient libraries, mission reports from lands unknown to the general population, filled with stories of horror and magic that seemed impossible.

And so, it was nearly impossible to surprise the eunuch at this point. It was almost boring in someways, living a life where every betrayal and bit of news was always half-expected.

So it was that Varys felt a bit of pleasure alongside shock when he entered Eddard Stark's cell to see him standing there, looking out the bars of his window. The large man had been half-dead when he saw him last, still hurt from a leg wound. Now he standing as hale and hearty as ever. Eddard turned to see who had entered.

"Ah. Varys. Of course." Eddard smirked, beckoning to his sell. "I'd offer you refreshments, but you can see that my power is no longer as significant as it once was."

A joke. Eddard rarely joked. Wary, the eunuch known as the Spider enters the sell, closing the door behind him. "You seem in good spirits for a man in your position." Varys says, his voice calm as he looks the Stark Patriarch up and down.

"A byproduct of a gift from a ally of mine." Eddard reaches into a pocket, bringing out a small object. He tossed it to the Spider, who, startled, fumbled with it in the air for a brief moment. When he finally has a good hold, he stared baffled at the object.

Orange and barely transparent, it was made of a material like none Varys had ever seen before. Light, almost fragile, flexible. Within the cup-shaped object are several bright blue objects, each with symbols emblazoned on them. Medicine obviously, though like none he'd ever seen before. The object is capped with a white lid, made of a thicker version of the orange containers material.

"Where did you get this?" He asked in awe.

Eddard doesn't answer for a moment. When he does, he ignores the question. "They were unable to capture my daughters."

Varys blinks. Technically, it should be impossible for the man to know that. Trapped in a cell, with no way to speak to others. And yet, his voice is certain.

"They are being pursued as we speak."

"Really." Eddard sounds amused. "And you have no idea what happened?"

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In fact, bare moments after his capture, a group of men lead by Ser Meryn Trant had immediately descended to capture Arya Stark mere moments after her father was they found her, the young Stark girl was practicing under the watchful eye of her teacher, Syrio.

Meryn stepped forward with all the authority of his new office. "Arya Stark. Come with us child."

There was a brief moment of silence. Then Arya cocked an eyebrow. "Okay. I'll bite. Why am I going with you?"

As always Arya's newfound venacular took a moment to circle through Meryn's mind. "Your father has sent us to get you. For your safety my lady."

Unexpectedly, the girl snorted. "Bull. Followed immediately by the word shit." Her eyes harden. "And I am not your lady."

A stunned silence fills the room. When Meryn spoke again, his voice was tight with anger. "Girl-"

"Excuse me." Meryn turned. And his jaw dropped. Before him lied both one of the most beautiful, and one of the most whorishly dressed women he'd ever seen. Long blonde hair cascading in waves to the small of her back. Bright blue eyes that shine out from a heart-shaped face. A incredibly buxom, athletic figure, encased in a tight red shirt and blue trousers so tight they leave nothing to the imagination.

"Hey Cassie!" Arya called out, running over to hug the young woman. Cassie smiled, kneeling down to wrap the small girl in a hug. As she does, the metal bracers on her wrists clank together, sending a clear belllike sound through the room. Notably, Arya had a pair of her own.

"Hey pumpkin. I came to take over your training." She looked over to Syrio, who had been watching the going ons with his keen hawklike eyes. "If Syrio doesn't mind of course."

The thin swordsman scoffed. "Syrio does not mind_ you_ girl. He minds that these men seem to believe we are not ready for them."

Meryn felt like screaming. The whole mess was supposed to be easy. Simply take the girl in and leave. Now, with all these distractions...

"Enough!" Meryn pulls the sword off his belt, snarling. His men follow his action, brandishing steel. "Arya Stark. You are coming with us. Your teacher and this whore are to stand aside immediately."

Cassies eyes narrow. "Huh. Well color me pissed." Her face brightens suddenly. She turns back to Arya. "Sweetie. Remember when I told you that you need some real world experience?"

"Um... Yes?" Arya answered, confused.

"Ahhhh." Syrio says, his voice full of both epiphany and approval. "I see. Yes, a most excellent idea."

"What? What are-" Arya blinks. "Oh."

When the blonde girl looks up, her blue eyes seem to dance with glee. "Take 'em."

For a brief moment, Meryn doesn't understand whats happening. Then, the Stark girl moves.

And one of his men goes down. The blow is lightning fast, a single piercing strike to the chest. The tiny waif of a girl hit his man not with her sword, which hangs loosely in her other hand, but her fist, straght to his heart. The man collapses like a fallen log, his eyes wide in shock and pain.

There's no time for surprise. The girl steps into their midst without fear of men twice her height with years more experience fighting. One of his men ignores the order to bring her in alove, instinctively swing his sword at her head. A _clang_ rings out as his sword bounces off her bracer. An impossible feat. No matter how tough the metal, a small girl cannot block a sword swing at full speed with just her small arms.

Yet, Arya does it again, when another of Meryn's men attacks. She grits her teeth, using her wooded blade for the first time to jam the second man in his inner thigh. As he cries out in pain, she follows with a sharp elbow to the temple, sending him flying in arc with impossible strength.

The first man to swing screams in rage, reaching to grab Arya's hair. She bites her bottom lip in pain, then grabs his wrist, wrenching back until he lets go. She doesn't let up, using her leverage on his arm spin him around into another of his men, sending them to the floor. She uses her momentum to leap onto the shoulders of the last man standing, wrapping her legs around his neck. With a spin, her tiny body weight swings around his neck, forcing him in a twist to the ground.

Now atop him as he lays there, Arya punches him in the nose, sending him to sleep.

The two men she'd sent sprawling begin to get up. One is sent back two his knees as Arya takes his legs out from under him with a powerful sword blow, followed by a knee to the temple. The other is taken out in the cruelest way possible.

One wooden blade point slammed into his crotch. As his eyes roll up into his head and a small squeak leaves his mouth, Cassie, Syrio, and Meryn wince.

"Now that's mean." Cassie says.

Just like that, Meryn is alone. Arya turns to look at him. He stares back, his grip on his sword tightening. With a snarl, he leaps forward, swinging brutally. Arya blocks the blade with a bracer. Moving with grace learned on the battle field, Meryn strikes again and again, trying to overwhelm the girl. She grits her teeth as sparks fly from the bracers.

When it happens, its unbelievable. Arya waits until the perfect moment, just before Meryn can pull his sword back from meeting her right bracer. Her left comes from above, trapping the blade between the two bracers. With a smooth jerk, the blade snaps between the strange metal.

Shocked, the last thing Meryn sees before he blacks out is a wooden blade coming for his face.


End file.
